


little things

by wormguts



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Jason Todd, Daddy Kink, Dark Fantasy, Idealism, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd is Robin, M/M, Male Solo, Masturbation, Puberty, Scent Kink, Shameless Smut, Size Kink, Teen Angst, Underage Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26329930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wormguts/pseuds/wormguts
Summary: Bruce is away, so a lonely little Jason crawls into his bed.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 10
Kudos: 159





	little things

**Author's Note:**

> hey i have no idea what the hell this is but uh. enjoy?

The bed smells like him.

He feels it between his legs. The soft sheets, the firm mattress—they feel good. He can press his face against them, inhale the scent, and pretend he isn’t alone. And maybe it’s wrong, maybe it’s weird. But it feels good. It’s not bad if he likes it, right?

He whimpers when he rubs his member against the mattress. The front of his underwear is wet, sticky. He’ll make a mess if he doesn’t stop now, but an ugly little part of him doesn’t want to. He wants to paint the bed with his sins. He wants Bruce to see him now, see his little boy all grown up, touching himself in Bruce’s bed.

Bruce would be furious, Jason knows. But he can’t help imagining that under that anger, Bruce would also be intrigued. Curious, maybe. Maybe he wouldn’t understand what could possess Jason to masturbate in his bed, face-down, crying in quiet pleasure. Maybe Bruce would ask him why.

“Feels good,” Jason whispers to himself. That’s it: because it feels good. Every time Bruce looks at him, brushes his fingers through Jason’s mop of curls, it sends shivers up and down his spine. He lights up from the inside out, something hot and heavy swooping low in his belly when Bruce touches him. He wants more. He wants all of Bruce. He wants Bruce to care. And even if Jason is street trash, too dirty for his age, he wants Bruce to take care of him.

He abandons rutting against the mattress and rolls over, struggling out of his underwear. As much as he wants to, he can’t leave any evidence behind. He’d be dead if Bruce ever found out. The thought makes precum bead at the tip of his prick.

It’s so wrong. He knows it’s wrong. He shouldn’t have feelings like this, especially not for Bruce. He’s Bruce’s little boy, his happy-go-lucky kid sidekick. He’d never want to kiss or hold Jason. He’d never want to come home and find Jason naked in his bed. 

Jason wraps one hand around his penis and shoves the other in his mouth. He imagines they’re Bruce’s fingers exploring the inside of his mouth. Bruce would want him to suck, to be a good boy, he knows it. Bruce likes obedience. Jason would be the _most_ obedient. He’d be so obedient Bruce would have to reward him. He’d go, _“good boy, Jay. That’s my boy,”_ and kiss Jason’s forehead while Jason writhes and whimpers under him. He’d be so big. He’d cradle Jason against his chest and Jason would feel so small and safe.

Jason twists his wrist at the head of his dick and feels the heady sensation all the way down to his toes. He can’t help but moan at the feeling. With Bruce’s scent all around him, right here where Bruce sleeps, he feels every touch like it’s Bruce himself stroking him. Down, up, squeezing the tip, licking the slit. Maybe Bruce would be aroused too. Maybe touching Jason would make him hard.

“ _Bruce_ ,” Jason whines. He wants him. He pulls at his little cock furiously, the pleasure making him shake. He’s never felt quite like this before. 

He shuffles onto his side so he can press his face into Bruce’s pillow, breathing in Bruce’s soap and shampoo and that scent underneath that’s Bruce’s alone. He imagines he’s breathing right in the crook of Bruce’s neck, touching himself, Bruce touching him too. On Bruce’s lap, in Bruce’s bed, Bruce’s hard cock _right there_.

“Mnn—!”

Bruce pressing him into the mattress, fed up with Jason’s teasing, taking what he wants from Jason. Jason spreads his legs without a second thought, his free hand straying to play behind his balls. He pretends it’s Bruce exploring his body. His fingers, still wet with saliva, tease his opening. He slips one in easily. Bruce would like that. He’d tell Jason how tight he feels, how small.

“I-it’s too big,” Jason breathes to the empty room. The Bruce of his fantasy would moan at that, aroused by how much smaller Jason is. Would it be too big? From the glances Jason’s stolen during showers down in the Cave, Bruce is hung like a horse. Jason can’t imagine how it’d look hard. He’s only ever seen it flaccid, but—but wet, dripping, flushed pink and hard for him—

 _“We’ll make it fit,”_ Bruce would say, _“I’ll open you up.”_

Jason adds another finger and begins scissoring them. The stretch burns, not wet enough to be comfortable, but Jason likes it. He’s perverted like that. He even likes the dirty-wrong thought of Bruce just forcing it in, holding him down even if he cries, making Jason take it. And Jason would like it. He’d like it so much he’d cry tears of both pain and joy, and it’d feel so good.

A third finger joins the others, and by this point, Jason’s eyes are tearing up for real. He hisses through the pain, but his body doesn’t seem to mind. His cock stands at attention, red and angry at being neglected. The angle is awkward to jerk it and finger himself at the same time, so he’s mostly resorted to rubbing it against his stomach and moaning at the precum dragging against his skin. It isn’t enough, though. He wants more.

He turns over, raising to his knees, face-down, ass-up, so he can touch his dick. His fingers press deep inside him, searching. He only blushes a little at the sight he must make. He’s too absorbed in the pleasure, searching to finish, to notice anything else going on in the world. All he needs is this, right now.

He pants out soft, _“ah! ah! ah!”_ s each time his fingers pound into him, picking up a rhythm with his strokes too. Bruce’s arms are so big and long they’d easily wrap around Jason’s lithe waist, rubbing his cock in his calloused hand lovingly. _“So cute,”_ he’d whisper in Jason’s ear _, “you take it so well, baby.”_

A low, wounded cry slips past Jason’s lips. _God_ , he wants it. He wants to be Bruce’s baby. He’d be so good. So, _so_ good.

 _“Say it,”_ fantasy Bruce demands, his voice a soft growl.

“I—I’m—I’m Bruce’s…” he trembles as his fingers find his prostrate.

_“Say it, Jason.”_

“I can’t,” he cries, tears streaming down the apples of his cheeks as pleasure builds at the base of his cock. He’s so close. He just needs—he needs— “I-I’m Daddy’s good boy!”

His knees give out as he comes, he body shaking and twitching in shock. He can’t even think straight enough to grab his underwear and cover himself before spurts of cum are staining Brue’s sheets and sealing his fate.


End file.
